Mathematically Starving
by Zaedah
Summary: She was holding her more erotic inclinations down with imaginary bungee cords and duct tape.


These characters were briefly borrowed but returned unharmed. Please enjoy this offering.

**Mathematically Starving **

Hunger. Preposterous when one is surrounded by a dozen take out cartons. But she was hungry. And not for food. This was, of course, entirely his fault. Because he was looking rather delicious.

Normally she was a rational being, crafted as a logically inclined woman. He enhanced that, his intensely analytical nature rivaling her thirst for challenge. Numbers were his breath and pulse and she fed off his energy and passion. But today any reserve she possessed was straining to the fracturing point. Because as surely as he'd expanded her mind's thought processes, he was also bringing out a less rational side, one that wanted to rush to him and kiss him hot and deep before their small audience. Amita was practically sitting on her hands, holding her more erotic inclinations down with imaginary bungee cords and duct tape.

Charlie's brain was a miracle, a device no computer could match. His focus, his obsession with all things math drew her to him originally. But it was his soft, deep voice, his smile and those damn curls that did her in. No longer satisfied with simply learning from him and being a friend, she'd blatantly used a proposed move to Harvard to coax him into action. And somehow, this man who lived just outside of the world, got the hint. And therein resides her conundrum. Now that she knew how it felt to kiss him, how welcome her touch was, she had struggled to think of other things. Such as the work she was supposed to be doing presently. Making a scene by jumping him would not go well tonight. Especially in mixed company.

Don poured over the maps Charlie had annotated, talking by cell phone to his team about locations and timing. Larry rambled on about how his recent space adventure related to this case. Observing Charlie told her he wasn't listening anymore than she was. He was inside his head, putting things together than no one else would. _Give him another minute and he'll have it_. Her confident smile must have aroused suspicion but she met Don's questioning gaze with a noncommittal shrug. He returned to his call and she resumed her Charlie-watching. A few dark curls had fallen over his eyes and her hands began to itch. He kept it a bit shorter now, much to her dismay. She'd have to talk to him about that. When they were alone. Which had better be soon.

As if unconsciously reading her urgent vibe, Charlie swiftly turned his laptop so Larry could view the screen and they talked in hushed tones. He must be close to the answer, Amita thought. Evidence one: hands gesturing. Evidence two: actual sustained eye contact, something he often struggled with. Evidence three: Don picked up a few words and ended his call to hover over the brilliant pair. Amita remained perched on the window bench, school paperwork ignored. Though she wasn't helping with the case, as the parameters were out of her league, she'd stayed on the rouse of providing dinner. Not that Charlie had eaten. He tended to forget such things when he was working on something. Forgot sleeping too. Of course, she wasn't allowing that tonight. He would rest and she'd be there to ensure it. After she appeased her hunger.

20 minutes passed in contemplation of how to sate her appetite. So enraptured had she become in the images playing in her mind that she nearly missed Don's abrupt departure. Fortunately, in his haste he hit his knee on a table, otherwise she'd have surely been caught in quite a naughty daydream. As it was, her blush could give it away. So she jumped to her feet and tidied her previously untouched stack of documents. Daring a glance up, Amita witnessed Larry's wave as he wandered out the door. Blissfully out of competition for Charlie's attention, she laid her notebook face down to hide the evidence she'd been practicing doodling 'Amita Epps' in the margins.

On a deliberately slow course of approach, she watched him run a hand through his hair as he shut down the computer. He was tired. Too tired for her liking. Don had approached Charlie about the case three days ago and he'd already neglected sleep for several days prior due to finals. She sidled up beside him and waited until he acknowledged her presence. Clearly his mind was elsewhere, which was hardly unusual. Amita brought a hand up to turn his face to her. At first he resisted the coaxing as if by habit rather than choice. In the past she'd felt rejected when he failed to notice her this way. But time together taught her that Charlie had trouble getting out of his head once he got trapped inside. She just had to wait. Finally the touch registered and his eyes rose to meet hers. And her patience was rewarded with a genuine smile. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in to press her lips to his ear.

"Let's get out of here." Amita pulled back but was disappointed to see the hesitance brewing.

He dropped his gaze and she could sense the multitude of thoughts fighting for his concentration. "I have to finish…"

Amita's mouth on his ended that refusal. He would submit because she'd give him no alternative. His hands found her hips as she enticed him deeper into the kiss. And her form of debate was terribly addicting. Charlie seemed to agree as he pulled her closer, strong fingers kneading the bare flesh of her midriff. Her arms slid down his chest to tug at his button down shirt while pressing her frame provocatively against his. The proof of her effect on him was noted with unrepentant feminine pride.

Then it occurred to her desire-addled brain that they shouldn't be doing this in his unlocked, opened-door office. The nearly impossible feat of separating was completed only by great willpower. Resting her forehead to his, she rolled out her sexy voice.

"Time for bed, Professor Epps."

"Definitely," he whispered, stealing a quick kiss before stepping out of her grasp.

Tucking a few things away in his backpack, Charlie turned back to her and held out his hand. The invitation she'd been waiting for all night. Entwining their fingers, Amita grinned at her lover, her miracle.

"I'm hungry." Her purr lit a further fire in his gaze.

"I couldn't tell," he teased and she was struck once more at how far they'd come. "There's…food at the house." The cocky grin coupled with the knowing suggestion was nearly fatal to her decision to not let it get out of control in his office.

"I need lots of…food." Releasing his hand, she sauntered to the door, hip sway in overdrive. Looking back over her shoulder, she gave her hair a toss. "Coming?" The flash in his dark eyes told her that her word choice was not lost on him.

He closed the distance, stopping before her and tilting her chin up. "My lady gets what she wants." He headed down the hall to the exit, turning back to find her still in the doorway. This line of conversation was making it hard to walk, she discovered. "Coming?"

And that was her undoing. To think, Don believed his little brother to be so innocent, so lost to his numbers. _Oh yes, Charlie_, she thought._I'm coming. Just about now_.


End file.
